Stella's POV
"Please wait here, Miss Winston." The secretary gestured to an imposing office door on the 38th floor. "The CEO had an urgent meeting, but he'll be with you shortly."
I hesitated at the threshold. GT Group's CEO was notoriously private – few claimed to know his true identity. The fact that he wanted to meet me personally after a preliminary interview was... unusual.
"I'll have refreshments brought up," the secretary added with a professional smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
The office that greeted me was a statement in power and understated wealth. The massive desk seemed to dwarf the rest of the room, its surface cleared except for a sleek laptop and a single fountain pen.
I moved to the window, careful not to put too much pressure on my still-healing knees. The afternoon sun caught the edges of nearby skyscrapers.
My phone buzzed with an HR notification: "Congratulations on advancing to the final round. Please return in three days, same time and location, for your interview with the executive team."
Before I could process this development, voices approached from the hallway.
"Mr. Lancaster, regarding the Australian energy cooperation project—" A man's voice, crisp and deferential.
Lancaster? My head snapped up just as the office door opened.
"The numbers don't add up." That voice – so familiar it made my pulse skip – cut through the conversation like a blade. "Have them recalculate and—"
Adam stopped mid-sentence as our eyes met. For a moment, neither of us moved.
"Mr. Lancaster?" The CFO glanced between us, clearly confused by his boss's sudden silence.
The door opened, and there he was – Adam Lancaster, looking every inch the corporate shark in a perfectly tailored Tom Ford suit. Our eyes met, and for a moment, neither of us moved.
"Clear my schedule," he commanded without breaking eye contact. "Everyone out."
The executives filed out quickly, though not before I caught their curious glances. The CFO in particular seemed to be doing some rapid mental calculations as he studied my presence in his boss's office.
The door clicked shut, leaving us alone in the vast space.
"You're... GT Group's CEO?" The words came out barely above a whisper.
His smile was pure predator. "Surprise, Mrs. Lancaster."
Well, shit.
Adam moved toward me with that always made my skin tingle. "And you're supposed to be on bed rest."
"I didn't know—" But the pieces were suddenly falling into place. Morgan's deferential treatment. The Lancaster Manor's obscene luxury. Mark Anderson's careful respect. How had I missed this?
"Clearly." His eyes dropped to my knees, and something dangerous flickered in their depths. "Since you're still determined to disobey doctor's orders."
"The interview was important." I lifted my chin, refusing to be cowed. "And I passed, by the way."
"Did you?" His mouth curved into that infuriating smirk as he invaded my personal space. "And what makes you think the CEO's wife needs to interview for anything?"
"Because I earned it!" The words came out sharper than intended. "I'm not going to use our... arrangement for professional gain."
Something shifted in his expression – approval? Amusement? "Even don’t care who I am?"
"Yes." I met his gaze steadily. "I won't give anyone reason to question my capabilities."
"No?" His hand came up to trace my jawline, making it really hard to maintain my demeanor. "Not your husband could give you anything you want."
"Mr. Lancaster." I tried to sound stern despite how his proximity made my pulse race. "I'm here as a candidate, not your wife."
His laugh rumbled through his chest. "Are you sure about that, Mrs. Lancaster?"
Before I could respond, a knock interrupted us.
"Enter." Adam's voice carried that edge of command.
Taylor appeared, carrying a tray laden with what looked like every premium sparkling water brand in existence. "As requested, sir."
I couldn't help but laugh. "Really? Is this your idea of punishment?"
"Consider it a reminder." Adam's smile held equal parts threat and amusement. "Since you seem to have trouble distinguishing beverages."
I caught whispers from passing employees:
"Did you see her?"
"The CEO's woman..."
"He's never shown such consideration..."
"Your shoes," Adam's voice cut through my mortification. "Take them off."
"Excuse me?"
But he was already kneeling again, replacing my heels with what had to be the most comfortable ballet flats I'd ever seen. "These will be easier on your knees."
"I don't need—"
"You are my wife." The way he said this words sent shivers down my spine. "For once in your life, accept the help."
I tried the sparkling water to hide my confusion at this gentler side of him. The fizzy sweetness was perfect – exactly what I'd been craving since that night.
"Taylor will drive you home." His tone left no room for argument. "Try not to start any revolutions on the way."
"Of course, sir." Taylor's professional mask didn't slip, but I swore I caught a hint of amusement in his eyes.
"Mrs. Lancaster." His voice stopped me at the door. "Three days."
I turned, confused. "What?"
His smile was pure predator. "Your final interview. Don't be late."
\---
Adam's POV
The office felt strangely empty after she left, though her scent – that maddening mix of expensive perfume and something uniquely her – lingered in the air. My eyes fell on the array of sparkling waters Taylor had brought, noting which bottle she'd chosen.
With a mixture of curiosity and something dangerously close to fondness, I picked up the same brand. The taste was cloyingly sweet .
Troublesome woman. Even her choice in beverages was complicated.
"The female market segment does show promising profit margins," I muttered, trying to justify my inexplicable urge to understand her choices.
The laptop screen still displayed her interview results – top scores across every category. Of course she'd excel. When had Stella ever done anything less?
My phone buzzed with a message from the CFO: "Sir, about the Australian project..."
Work. Right. I had a multinational corporation to run, merger deals to negotiate, competitors to crush. I couldn't spend all day thinking about my wife's infuriating determination to prove herself.
But as I turned back to the endless stream of reports and meetings, I found myself smiling. She hadn't even considered using our marriage to her advantage. My troublesome wife, always insisting on doing things her way.
The sparkling water's sweetness lingered on my tongue, much like the memory of her surprised expression when she'd realized who I was. How many more layers of her were still waiting to be discovered?
"Sir?" Taylor's voice interrupted my dangerous train of thought. "The board is waiting."
Right. CEO mode. But first... "Taylor, make sure every floor has a supply of that brand she chose."
"The overly sweet one, sir?"
"All of them." My smile probably sent chills down his spine. "My wife might need... She may work there soon."